"How's it feel to be home?” Avanell asked as she put the car in reverse, maneuvered it into a tight circle and then turned it down the driveway.

Home? Harriet thought. This wasn't home. Not her home, anyway. She looked out the car window. The pastel-painted Victorian houses that lined Aunt Beth's street could just as easily have been in San Francisco, or even some parts of Oakland. As they dropped down the hill toward town the larger houses gave way to smaller bungalow cottages, tucked behind neatly planted juniper bushes and dogwood trees.

The car gave a sharp bounce, and Harriet jumped.

"Sorry,” Avanell said. “Hot flash."

Her comment barely registered. The salt air rushed over Harriet. She held her breath but finally let it out with a gasp. She resisted with every fiber of her being, but it was no use-she was home. She could kid herself and try to pretend that her home was Oakland, but she'd felt it as soon as she'd driven into town, and waited while a doe and her twin fawns crossed Main Street unmolested and disappeared into a grove of pine trees. She'd been sure when she'd cruised past coffee shops with names like Human Beans and Lucy's Lattes-not a franchise business as far as the eye could see.

She ran her fingers through her close-cropped hair.

"We gave the Vitamin Factory a face lift a few years ago,” Avanell pointed out as the neighborhood gave way to a light industrial area. She slowed as she drove past her long, low building.

"I'm embarrassed to admit that I don't remember what it used to look like."

"No reason you should,” Avanell smiled. “You were a teenager. You had much more on your mind than industrial buildings. Just for the record, we removed the fifties style brick facade from the office area and replaced all the old pink siding with dark green Hardy plank."